


Names

by SailorChibi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Gen, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Tony Stark, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmate-Identifying Names, Tony Stark Has A Heart, minor salt against steve, team civil war iron man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:47:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27907702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Tony Stark was the last person that Bucky expected to have fighting for his freedom.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark
Comments: 26
Kudos: 673





	Names

**Author's Note:**

> It's that time of year where I slap half-hearted endings onto bits of fics I started but never completed and then throw them up on AO3. This one was a half-hearted attempt at a winteriron big bang that never got anywhere.

To say that it had been a severe shock to be frozen in Wakanda and wake up in New York was an understatement.

Now, several months after he had first opened his eyes to a team of doctors, Bucky allowed himself to be escorted into the same room where he usually met with his lawyer. The guards waited until he sat and then the cuff around his right arm was removed from its binding and attached to the table. Only once he was secured did the two of them leave the room, closing the door behind them. He knew that they hadn't gone far; they would station themselves immediately outside the door, just waiting for the moment when something would go wrong.

Not that it had. Though Bucky had been initially surprised and afraid by what fate might be waiting for him - Steve had impressed on him the danger of allowing the Accords Council, the police or SHIELD to get their hands on him - things had not been nearly as bad as Bucky had expected. He had a team of psychologists and medical doctors who were all working together to help him; using a special piece of technology called the B.A.R.T. and with the help of a mutant named Charles Xavier, they had recently succeeded in removing the code words from his brain. He had several lawyers who were negotiating his case. Best of all, no one expected him to murder people or to put him into a chair and fry his brain.

He waited patiently for what came next, wondering if it would be another meeting with his lawyer: they had increased in frequency since the scientists had confirmed that the code words were gone. Bucky knew very little about what his fate would be, but at this point he was resigned to whatever came next. Steve was, presumably, still in the wind, and all Bucky knew about T'Challa was that T'Challa had been forced to surrender the Winter Soldier peacefully or risk an invasion into Wakanda. Bucky assumed that Steve and the other Avengers had fled Wakanda before Bucky was handed over.

The door opened. The very last person that Bucky had ever thought he would see again walked into the room. Tony Stark looked polished and put-together, dressed in a bespoke, dark grey suit, black vest, white shirt, red tie, and black dress shoes. There was more grey in his hair than Bucky remembered, and a few new lines in his face - but overall, Stark walked like a man who was worth a million bucks and knew it. He paused just inside the door and tipped his head, looking down his nose through his sunglasses at Bucky.

"Well," Stark said at last. "Well, well. Good morning, Barnes."

"Good morning," Bucky said automatically, then froze. Was that an appropriate thing to say to the guy whose parents you had murdered? No, of course not. Last time Bucky had seen Stark, the man had been laying on the floor of a Siberian bunker after Bucky had helped to beat him half to death. Guilt coiled in his stomach, hot and heavy, though he refused to let it show. 

Stark looked a little amused. "I'm pleased to see that you've got better manners than Rogers, at any rate. Not that that's very hard to accomplish." He moved forward slowly and sat. A normal person probably wouldn't have noticed that he was favoring his left side a little, but Bucky did. His lead psychologist had told him that he would probably always look for and catalogue people's weaknesses. Only now it wasn't a weapon, but a defence mechanism.

Bucky didn't know what to do, or what to say. He had never thought that he would see Tony Stark again, and he couldn't fathom what the man was doing here - unless...

"I'm not here to kill you, or to demand retribution," Stark said, apparently knowing exactly what Bucky was thinking. "Now that I've had some time to accept the situation, I do recognize that you were a victim too." He cleared his throat. "I mean... unless you wanted to kill all those people."

"No!" Bucky exclaimed, horrified by the very idea, and was stunned when Stark smiled.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. That's why you're not in jail. It's pretty hard to incarcerate someone who wasn't acting of their own free will. You were Hydra's weapon, and that means we have to go after the people who were _operating_ the weapon. Of course, Hydra can't account for what you did after you were free of their control..." Stark pulled his sunglasses down to pin Bucky with a meaningful look, and Bucky flushed with shame.

He could've blamed Steve. He had admitted during his interviews that he'd been blindly following the Avengers' lead then, particularly Steve. But that didn't seem right or fair in the face of someone who had already suffered so much thanks to the Winter Soldier; it would’ve felt like making excuses, and Bucky could admit to himself that Stark deserved better than that.

“No, the reason that I’m here is because of that.” Stark nodded his head towards Bucky’s arm. Bucky followed his gaze and was horrified to realize that Stark meant the black band on Bucky’s arm.

Nearly everyone had worn them back in the 1920’s, and Bucky wasn’t surprised to find that it was a trend that had carried forward to today – though most people tended to wear something flashier than the simple black one that Bucky had. But there were always some people who didn’t wear the bands, preferring instead to let the world see both the name of their soulmate and their greatest enemy.

Bucky couldn’t fathom that, especially now. With the loss of his left arm, one of his names was gone as well. Like everyone, he had never known for sure which name was which, but he’d had a better guess than most. Meeting and becoming best friends with Steve Rogers as a young boy had led him to believe that Steve was his soulmate, and the other name on his wrist was his greatest enemy.

Now, looking at the owner of that other name, Bucky wasn’t so sure.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, noticing the way that Stark stiffened but unable to stop. “I’m sorry about your parents; I’m sorry that Steve didn’t tell you – I didn’t know that he hadn’t, and I don’t know why he didn’t, but I’m sorry. And – and I’m sorry your name is on my wrist. I never meant for you to find out –”

“Stop,” Stark said, holding up a hand.

With effort, Bucky obeyed. What he’d said was true, though he doubted Stark would believe him. Much of Hydra knew what names Bucky had, of course. He sometimes thought they gained a perverse pleasure out of forcing Bucky to kill the Starks because of that. And the army had known, because that information was put into every soldier’s file, though it was supposed to be heavily redacted. When Bucky woke up here, he’d still been wearing his band but there was no doubt in his mind the name on his wrist had been catalogued along with everything else. Evidently that information had made its way back to Stark.

“First of all, the fact that my name is on your wrist is not your fault, and I don’t expect you to apologize for it,” Stark said. “Secondly, you don’t need to apologize for what Rogers did or didn’t do. Thirdly, I accept your apology on – on the other thing, but I’d rather if we didn’t talk about it.”

Bucky nodded wordlessly, baffled.

“No one gets to decide what names we get, and we don’t usually know who our soulmate is and who our greatest enemy is until we’re older. Some people argue that it’s a decision we ourselves make,” Stark continued. “That through unconscious bias, we _make_ our soulmate and we make our greatest enemy. I don’t know if that’s true. A few years ago I would’ve, but back then I didn’t believe in magic. It was a simpler time.” He gave a bitter, humorless smile at that last bit.

“I know the other name on your wrist was Steve Rogers. I’m sure you’ve spent your whole life believing that he was your soulmate,” Stark went on. “The names on his wrists were never recorded; it was considered a privacy breach for a special project. So no one knows what they are, unless you do.” He pinned Bucky with a questioning look.

“I don’t. He never – we never shared,” Bucky said. He’d wanted to, but having the name of two men on your wrists when you were also a man was considered highly shameful back then. The ideal was having two names of the opposite gender, or at least two names that passed for the opposite gender. He was pretty sure that back then, the only person who had known of Bucky’s names was his mother, and he couldn’t even remember her face never mind what her reaction had been.

So Bucky had never asked, and Steve had never seemed interested in sharing anyway. Bucky did remember that he had harbored a small hope, for a while, that his name was on Steve’s wrist. That was the ultimate connection, the stuff fairy tales were made of: a two-way bond. Most people, even though they hoped otherwise, weren’t lucky enough to have that.

“Right, of course not. Well, if Rogers is your soulmate, that would make me your greatest enemy.” Stark eyed him as he spoke, as though waiting for a reaction.

But that wasn’t news to Bucky, and he waited patiently to see where Stark was going with this.

“The thing is, I don’t agree with that for a variety of reasons, the least of which is that I’ve never done anything to hurt you beyond what happened in the bunker. I didn’t even know you existed for a long time.”

“You think you’re my soulmate?” Bucky said before he could stop himself.

Stark smiled, strained. “I didn’t say that. I’m not _not_ saying it, but…” He shrugged uncomfortably. “I just – you didn’t have anyone in your corner, okay? I know what that feels like. It’s not fair.”

“Wait. Everything – the doctors, the lawyers, that was _you_?” Bucky said incredulously.

Stark’s discomfort deepened. “Well… the Accords Council had already figured out where you are. I mean, it was kind of obvious. T’Challa isn’t nearly as sneaky as he likes to think is. They forced his hand, not me. But yeah, I did intercede on your behalf. Paid for most of this. I asked Charles to meet with you. Not gonna lie, you would probably be in jail right now otherwise.”

Bucky just stared, speechless.

“I didn’t want that, though. You deserve better. So I hired some lawyers, the best I know, to fight for you. And they’re damn good at their jobs.” Stark smirked. “It’s looking like you’re going to get off, Barnes. You can’t be charged for what you did as the Winter Soldier, and you’ve received a pardon for what happened afterwards due to the massive PTSD you had. Have. There will be some conditions, of course. You’ll never be allowed contact with Hydra, though I doubt that’ll be an issue for you. Regular therapy sessions, meetings with a court-appointed officer, maybe some community service, that sort of thing. But… you’re basically free.”

Bucky kept staring.

“So if I am your greatest enemy, and fuck knows that I could be, I’m doing my best to make up for it. I’m – I’m trying, okay?” Stark pushed his sunglasses up onto his head. He looked very tired, suddenly. “And if I’m not, and you can bring yourself to believe that even a little bit, you can leave today. With me.”

A response was required, and Bucky knew that. He did. He just… couldn’t quite his brain wrapped around what Stark was saying. Stark had helped him. Had stepped in on Bucky’s behalf after T’Challa handed him over. Was responsible for Bucky earning his freedom, both from the code words and the threat of being turned back into a mindless killing machine, and from prison. Was here now, offering Bucky a place to stay.

It was unfathomable. How could one man give so much?

“Okay, I’m kinda gonna need an answer here,” Stark said. “You can say no. They’ll help you get set up somewhere else if you want to. Maybe a small –”

“Yes!” Bucky burst out. “I just - _why_?! Who would you – I killed –” He cut himself off, remembering at the last second that Stark didn’t want to talk about his parents. The action earned him a tight smile.

“You didn’t do that. The Winter Soldier did. You don’t deserve to be punished for that,” he said, with the air of someone who had been frequently repeating those words to himself. “Frankly, I also think you deserve better than what Rogers and his band of misfits put you through.” He paused, then added, “By the way, another condition of your parole will be that you have no contact with them either.”

“That’s fine,” Bucky said quickly. He didn’t want to talk to Steve right now. He had yet to fully sort out how he felt about the whole situation, but gratitude or a desire for friendship were not high on the list.

An odd look crossed Stark’s face, but he shook it off. “Okay. Well, like I said, I didn’t want to see you be turned into a scapegoat for everything that’s wrong with Hydra. You needed someone in your corner, and there was no one else.” He shrugged, but the implication was clear enough for Bucky to easily pick up on: Steve Rogers should have been that someone, but Steve’s own actions had ruined that opportunity – possibly forever.

He found himself wondering if Stark had done this just because his name was on Bucky’s wrist, out of some misguided desire to make sure he wasn’t thought of as Bucky’s worst enemy. But then, even if that was the case, did it really matter if that was Stark’s reasoning? The end result was still the same. Even if Stark betrayed him somehow, it would be no less than Bucky deserved – and frankly, Bucky would still come out ahead considering that Xavier had strengthened the barriers around Bucky’s mind to make sure that the code words couldn’t be re-implanted.

“Thank you,” Bucky said softly. It wasn’t enough, but right now it was all he had.

Stark exhaled at that, his shoulders slumping and eyes closing briefly, before he lifted his head to look at Bucky again. “So, you wanna blow this popsicle stand?”

“Um… I figured that not blowing things up was part of the deal too,” Bucky said cautiously.

Stark blinked for a moment, then threw his head back and laughed. Bucky stared at him again, this time somewhere between surprised and wonder. The visible stress and tension melted away from Stark in his amusement, leaving him more relaxed. He reached up and removed his sunglasses entirely, and Bucky noticed the hint of grey at his temples for the first time. 

“Oh boy, Barnes. You are interesting,” Stark said, shaking his head. “It’s just an expression. It means, are you ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, hoping his eagerness didn’t show too obviously. He hadn’t dared to dream that he might walk out of this building. He knew he wasn’t in jail – the room where he was kept was too nice for that – and had thought that the most he could hope for was to spend the rest of his life here.

“Okay. I’ll be waiting out front,” Stark said, getting to his feet. He pulled his sunglasses back down onto his face and strolled out of the room.

Not a minute later, the door behind Bucky swung open and the guards were in the room with him. They unhooked his cuff from the table and reattached it to his side, then escorted him back out into the hallway. Bucky went with them, confused. Maybe this was an elaborate prank that Stark had set up? Maybe he’d never intended to take Bucky with him after all…

Yet Bucky was not taken back to his cell, but instead to another room he had never been in before. His head lawyer, a stern-faced older man by the name of Rowan who was apparently a real bulldozer in the courtroom, was there, along with a couple of other people. He listened in a daze as they outlined the details of what they were calling his parole, even though he’d technically never been imprisoned. There were a few other conditions in addition to what Stark had said, including Bucky’s agreement to wearing a monitoring device.

But within just over an hour, Bucky had shakily signed his name on several dotted lines. Rowan smiled approvingly and shook hands with everyone in the room. A guard walked over to Bucky and unlocked the cuff and the attachment that went around his waist, then the cuffs around his ankles. It had been months since Bucky had been anywhere other than the shower without those cuffs on. He stood still.

“Come along, Mr. Barnes,” Rowan declared. “Gentleman.” With one last nod, he ushered his client out the door. To Bucky, he added, “I’ll see to it that you’re given a full copy of the papers you signed today. I’ll follow up with you in a couple days once you have a chance to get your head together, okay?”

“Sure,” Bucky said, barely aware of what he was agreeing to. He followed Rowan out a door and found himself standing in a lobby of sorts. Stark was leaning against the wall to their right, head bowed to his phone.

“Mr. Stark,” Rowan said.

“Mr. Bradley,” Stark replied, straightening up and sliding his phone into his pocket. “Thank you again for your services.”

“Anytime, Mr. Stark. Anytime.” Rowan smiled broadly and walked out the door, leaving Bucky and Stark alone. Stark gestured after him.

“Ready? You’re not taking anything with you?”

“I don’t have anything to take,” Bucky replied honestly. He’d taken nothing with him after escaping Hydra, and he’d felt guilty about stealing while he was on the run. He had only been conscious in Wakanda for a day or two, if that, and then he had been here. Everything was provided for him here, but nothing was Bucky’s. Not even the plain, cheap clothing they had given him to wear, which was too big and sometimes made his skin itch.

Stark frowned. “Nothing? Not even a book?”

Bucky shrugged. “There wasn’t much to read,” he said. They’d offered him a couple textbooks, but most of the words were far beyond his comprehension. They had also given him a tablet, but he couldn’t even access the internet with it. The most he could use it for was to play a couple games or write, since there had conveniently been an app just for that already installed, but he’d refrained: he didn’t know who would be reading through whatever he wrote, but he knew someone would be.

“… Okay,” Stark said after a slight pause, like he was restraining himself from saying something. “Let’s go.”

Walking out into the sunlight was one of the most amazing things that Bucky had ever felt. Time had lost all sense of importance after seventy-odd years of it not mattering, but it had to be the middle of the afternoon because the sun was directly overhead. There was a slight breeze blowing, just enough to tease at the fine hairs at the back of his neck that would never stay in the bun. The sun was warm on his face, but not blindingly hot like it had been in Wakanda. It was just right. 

But that was nothing compared to everything around him. Apparently, the building where he’d been kept was located right smack in downtown New York. There were so many _people_ around. Everywhere he looked, there were whole crowds of people living their lives. It was overwhelming after spending weeks, if not months, in quiet solitude with only two or three people ever in the same room with him at a time.

“Barnes.” Stark’s voice was close to his ear and Bucky jerked in surprise. There was something that might’ve been compassion on Stark’s face, but it vanished quickly under Bucky’s perusal. Silently, Stark waved at the black car that was pulled up to the curb.

“Right, yeah,” Bucky said a bit breathlessly, following Stark over to the car. Stark climbed in first and then Bucky followed, closing the door behind them. It was a little easier to deal with everything once he was in a confined space, though his tension ratcheted back up when he realized there was a driver in the car with them. Which honestly, also made him feel stupid – of course there was a driver, given that Stark hadn’t climbed in the driver’s seat.

“Happy, back to the tower, please,” Stark said.

Perhaps Happy was a nickname because the driver didn’t look very happy. He spent a moment glaring at Bucky in the rear-view mirror before starting the car. Bucky swallowed, glancing over at Stark. But Stark didn’t seem like he noticed the glare, having already pulled his phone back out. His thumbs were a blur as he rapidly typed out a message to someone.

Bucky silently turned back to the window, looking out at the passing scenery. New York looked different now that he wasn’t hiding in the shadows. He wasn’t even confined to Stark Tower according to what his lawyer had said; Bucky was to be given a cell phone with a tracking device in it, which he was to have it on his person at all times, and he wasn’t permitted to leave the country right now, but they hadn’t restricted him beyond that.

He’d never been afforded so much freedom before. He didn’t know what to do with that. And glancing over at Stark, then at Happy – who was _still_ sending glares into the rear-view mirror – he had the sinking suspicion that he was going to have to figure it out fast.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](https://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
